


The Frisky Disco

by lexstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Smut, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexstiel/pseuds/lexstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This Wincest fic is based on an excellent piece of fanart depicting Sam in a straight-backed chair, and Dean leaning over him not wearing much more than a thong and cowboy boots, with a disco ball in the background. I have not the slightest inkling as to the identity of the brilliant artist of this drawing, but all credit goes to that marvelous, unknown human.</p><p>This is my first attempt at writing smut, and it's less than satisfactory in my opinion. However, I am still proud of myself for managing to trudge through unfamiliar territory and wrap this work up with virtually no difficulty.</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Frisky Disco

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the summary, I have never before written any type of literary piece containing graphic depictions of sexual encounters. Bear with me, as this will probably not be the best bit of smut you have ever read.

It was a late winter evening and Sam was sitting in his dorm room, lonely and bored. His roomate was God-knows-where; Sam knew he probably didn't want to know. He was wallowing in his misery when the phone rang. Sam warily picked it up and answered.

"Sam! 'Ey, man! What're ya doin', bro?" the caller shouted over background noise.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Jason? I haven't talked to you in months." Jason was a fleeting friend Sam had made in the middle of his sophomore year at Stanford; they had had a falling out over Jessica Moore, Sam's girlfriend, at the beginning of junior year. Now he was drunk dialing Sam at ten thirty on a Friday night. What could he want?

The voice on the other end went silent for a moment. "Yeah, man, look, I'm real sorry 'bout that. I shouldn't 've said all that shit back then. You and Jess make a real nice couple, real nice."

Sam rolled his eyes and opened a can of soda. "Thanks, Jason."

"I'm serious, bro. Besides, I ain't into girls no more."

Sam choked on his beverage. "What?" he spluttered. Jason had seemed like the straightest guy you'd ever meet. Then again, Sam guessed that was what he got for placing so much stock into stereotypes. After all, he and Dean used to be mistaken as a couple before Sam left for Stanford, and it was nothing less than common knowledge that Dean was straight as a rod.

"Yeah, man, I been hittin' on dudes for a while now. I'm at this gay strip club right now and -" Jason paused, probably taking another swig of alcohol. "That's why I called, actually."

Sam buried his face in his free hand. "What does that have to do with me?"

Jason sniggered. "Well, I heard you and Jessica been having some troubles. I know your door swings both ways so I figger'd you might probably want somethin' to, y'know, distract ya. This place is great, man, you should come join me here for a beer."

It was true that Sam and Jess had been fighting, and deep inside, Sam knew he really wanted that distraction. But he felt unfaithful just for having the thought.

"Look, Jason, I'm sorry. I just don't think it's a good idea. I mean, Jess and I are having a few problems right now but it's nothing we can't work out -"

"Sam, I know you're all loyal and shit, but uh, word gets around and... You might wanna check in and see what Jess has been up to tonight, bro, before you make yer final decision."

"Excuse me, what? What the hell are you talking about?"

Jason laughed. "Let's just say Jess is havin' a little fun with some dude whose name ain't Sam."

Sam hung up on him.

He knew Jess, he knew it was a lie, knew she'd never cheat on him. But he couldn't stop himself from calling her cell, anyway. Just to check on her. It went straight to voicemail, and Sam was about to hang up when he realized she had changed her voicemail message since that afternoon, when they had argued over the phone. In the new one, Jessica's voice was replaced by a deeper one. "Jess is not available right now, hahaha, because she's with -" Sam jabbed his finger to the end button and threw the cell at the wall.

Jess always made poor decisions when she was drunk, so Sam assumed she had been drinking. The knowledge didn't comfort him, however, and it didn't stop the boiling rage brewing in his gut. He stewed for a moment, then crossed the room to retrieve his cell. Sam sat on his bed, punched a few buttons, and waited with the phone to his ear.

"'Ello?"

"Jason."

"Yeah, bro, wha -"

"What's the name of that club you're at?"

***

At eleven fifteen Sam stormed into The Frisky Disco. "What the hell is this place?" he muttered. Seeking out Jason's ginger hair and making his way to him, Sam looked around. The club was set up in what he supposed was meant to be seventies-style: a huge multi-colored disco hung from the center of the ceiling, casting a spinning rainbow over the men on the dance floor below. Against the far wall from the entrance was a bar, surrounded by men drinking, laughing, and groping each other. On either side of the dance floor were poles, on which well-built men danced wearing nothing but flimsy thongs and cowboy boots.

Sam tore his eyes from that sight and sat by Jason at the bar. Jason beamed at him and ordered a beer for Sam. He rambled on about this and that while Sam sipped his beer and stared around. Suddenly he felt a hand slip around his waist from behind. Sam whipped his head around to see some random guy in his thirties smirking at him.

"Hey there, pretty boy," the man jeered. "You wanna -"

Sam had him in a headlock before he could finish his sentence. "Don't touch me," he snarled. Several other men in the bar area were staring, so Sam reluctantly released the pervert and grabbed Jason's shoulder. "Let's find somewhere else to sit," he spat angrily.

Sam relocated them to a seating area in a strip on either side of the entrance to the club. Jason shook his head as they sat down in the hard wooden chairs closest to the wall. "Damn, bro. That was some crazy shit!"

Sam glowered at the floor. "You didn't bother telling me that there'd be asshole perverts here."

Jason's eyes widened. "Man, nah, come on! How was I s'posed to know?"

Sam shook his head. "No, it's okay, man. I know you didn't. I just... I have enough going on without some dick trying to grab all over me."

Jason nodded sympathetically. "I get it, dude. Here, have another beer, on me. Get yer mind off shit." He flagged down a scantily-clad guy Sam figured was a waiter and ordered another drink. When it was brought to him, Sam drank deeply, trying to shove all negative thoughts from his mind. He finally allowed himself to watch the exotic dancers.

Three beers later, Sam was thoroughly enjoying a lap dance. The drunken state he was in prevented his usual inhibitions from controlling him. It also wasn't hindering his growing erection. Sam closed his eyes and leaned against the back of his seat, placing his hands behind his head with a blissful sigh. Moments later the weight on his lap vanished abruptly. Sam blinked his eyes open in confusion and looked up -

\- Into the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

***

Sam had barely a second to glance at his drunken reflection in the club's dingy bathroom mirror before Dean locked the door and shoved him up against the far wall.

Sam's initial shock at seeing his brother standing over him, wearing next to nothing in a gay strip club, had been almost instantly replaced by something much more intense. Dean had yanked the other man off Sam's lap with an expression of pure jealousy, and he had wasted no time in pulling Sam to his feet and dragging him out of sight of the other club-goers. Sam reddened slightly as he remembered Jason's whistles and jeers.

He snapped back into the present when he felt Dean's hands pressing on his waist. "Dean, I - What the hell are you even doing here?"

The air seemed to chill a little as Dean cast his gaze down at the filthy tiled floor. "Dad's off somewhere with Caleb and I, uh, well I needed some money, real money for once, not pool-hustling."

"Yeah, Dean, I get that, but why are you here, in Palo Alto?" As shit-faced as Sam was, the flash of unbridled emotion that flitted across Dean's face was unmistakeable. "Dean, were you coming to visit me?"

Dean looked straight into Sam's eyes. His hands reached up to cup Sam's face as he smiled bitterly and said, "I've been trying to get up the nerve for a couple weeks now. I - I came here because I, uh, well, there was something I really needed to tell you. But I've been too much of a damn pussy to get around to that yet." He shook his head and huffed. "I sure as hell wasn't expecting to see you in here."

Sam blushed crimson. "Yeah, I, uh..."

Dean sniggered. Then his expression darkened. "When I saw Jeff on you like that back there I, well, I kinda lost control of myself." He took a small step forward until Sam could feel his brother's toned muscles through his shirt. Dean sucked in a deep breath, and a rush of words escaped with his exhale. "See, you're mine. He can't have you. And that girl you're with, she can't either, though it doesn't seem like things are going all too well with her, anyway. But that's what I came all the way up here to tell you, Sammy."

Sam's eyes widened. "Dean, I -" Dean's hands slipped under his shirt and he forgot to finish his sentence.

"Come on, Sam, you can't stand here and tell me that you've never felt the same. That you've never thought of me like - like, you know, that. I used to listen to you at night, back before you left me to come here, Sammy. I heard you, jacking off and whispering my name when you came, night after night."

Sam's face heated up again, but the influence of copious amounts of alcohol coupled with lust hurtling through his veins rendered him momentarily unable to do more than shiver under Dean's touch as his brother's hand slid upward to trace circles around his nipple. "Dean, I -" he started again. But he was left speechless once more when Dean's free hand slid down to palm Sam's dick through his jeans. Suddenly his skin was on fire, and his heart was swelling fit to burst, and he knew he wanted Dean more than anything, more than Jess, more than some stupid apple-pie life with a law degree and kids and a dog.

All traces of inhibition vanished, Sam dropped a hand to the front of Dean's silky black thong and used it to pull him closer. He ran his other hand down his brother's chiseled chest, sighing contentedly at the feel of him. This was Dean, Sam's Dean, and he finally had him like he had always wanted, though perhaps not quite the way he had pictured their first sexual encounter. Further musing escaped his thoughts as Dean crushed his lips to Sam's and licked into his mouth, chasing Sam's tongue with his own.

Sam leaned into the kiss and returned it feverishly. He had imagined this for years, but he had never counted on how electric this new physical contact with his brother would be. Sam brought his knee up to knock Dean's legs apart, and Dean responded by grinding his thinly-clad cock against Sam's denim-sheathed one. Sam shuddered and clawed at his brother's back, his erection pulsing hotly against his jeans.

Dean's hands snaked down Sam's chest and, in one fluid movement, yanked his shirt over his head. Sam managed to work his hand in between their aligned bodies and unzipped his jeans, sighing in relief as he dropped his pants and his dick slipped free of its restraint. He relocated his hand to Dean's cock, using the silky material covering it to his advantage. Sam allowed himself a satisfied grin when he felt Dean tremble at the coupled sensations of Sam's hand and the cloth rubbing at his cock. He bent down to nip at Dean's neck, bringing his free hand up to pinch at Dean's nipples.

Dean shoved his hand inside Sam's boxers and began to jack him off clumsily, but his hand slipped out into the open again as Sam kissed his way down Dean's body until he was kneeling on the floor, his mouth level with Dean's cock. "Sam," Dean gasped out, clasping his hands behind Sam's head and pulling him closer. Sam chanced a lick through the fabric at the head of Dean's dick and was instantly rewarded by the most alluring moan he had ever heard in his life. Sam's own dick was throbbing fit to burst, but he ignored his erection for the time being and shimmied Dean's stupid - but kinky, Sam admitted to himself - thong down his thighs and past his knees, letting it rest against the tops of his cowboy boots.

Damn, Dean was big.

Sam admired his brother's cock for a moment before taking it partway into his mouth. He swirled his tongue lightly around the head. "Sammy, please," Dean panted. Unable to deny his brother's needs, Sam reached his hand to Dean's cock and began to work it loosely in his fingers, simultaneously licking and sucking and lapping at the beads of precome that were leaking from Dean's slit. He increased gradually in speed until Dean was tugging fiercely at Sam's hair and shaking. "Fuck, Sam, Sam, holy shit - Sammy, ah -" He came in Sam's mouth, continuing to spill a stream of profanity repetitively mixed with Sam's name even as he spurted a load of come down Sam's throat.

Sam lapped up a few milky drops of come from his brother's skin and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He allowed himself an ear-to-ear grin, full of pride in his new-found ability to produce such a hot reaction from Dean. He didn't have long to rejoice in finally being the source of his brother's pleasure like he had wished for years, however, because Dean was hauling Sam to his feet and dragging him into one of the cramped stalls.

When the thong still trapped above Dean's cowboy boots tripped him up, Sam caught him and twisted their bodies around, a dirty, kinky idea forming in his intoxicated mind. He pulled them the rest of the way into Dean's chosen stall and clumsily closed the lid of the toilet. Sam lowered himself until he was sitting on the lid and pulled Dean's thong back up to cover his exposed dick - already semi-hard again - before yanking his older brother onto his lap.

Dean panted slightly. "Sam, what're you -" Unable to finish posing his question with Sam's lips against his, Dean instead shifted slightly on Sam's lap and rolled his hips a little. Sam's aching cock was almost unbearable now, as he felt Dean's spring back up to attention.

Dean began to buck his hips slightly and Sam chose to meet his thrusts, rocking his own hips up to meet Dean's midway. "Fuck, Dean, I was gonna -" his breath hitched when Dean's hard cock slid mercilessly against his own, but he pressed forward doggedly. "I was - I wanted to, ah, I was gonna ask you to do your job, give me a lap dance, y'know, but..." Sam slid a hand down Dean's back, slipping his fingers beneath the black thong. "It wouldn't be enough, not - not by this point." He met Dean's lust-blown gaze and saw his brother's eyes widen fractionally, though he nodded eagerly. Sam ground his dick against Dean's, harder this time, trying to convey the sheer intensify of his need. 

But then something occurred to him. "Dean, have you, um, have you ever...?" Dean knew what he meant - Have you ever had a cock up that pretty little ass of yours, Dean? - and shook his head indicating that no, he hadn't. Sam was about to pull away so as not to push Dean into anything he was uncomfortable with, however much of a disappointment it was, when his brother clutched at his shoulders. Sam was shocked to hear the hint of shyness in Dean's husky voice as he leaned close to Sam and whispered, "But that doesn't mean I don't want you to."

Sam's world exploded into fragmented colors. He almost came on the spot.

He couldn't believe his luck. His wildest, most forbidden dreams were coming true. Dean, his big brother, his savior, the only true love of his life, the only thing that made Sam's existence meaningful, was inviting Sam to open him up, take him as he had never been taken before right here in some filthy restroom.

Sam was just considering how to go about this, since he didn't exactly carry lube with him, when Dean grinned and reached into one of his boots. He withdrew a small bottle of lube and handed it to Sam. "Ya never know, Sammy," he pointed out, winking. Sam guessed that the previous shy Dean was shut down; cocky, sex-confident Dean had replaced him, probably as some kind of coping mechanism.

Sam pondered this startling turn of events in his so-recently shitty life, really thinking about the importance of this moment to come when he would claim Dean as truly his and his alone. He wasn't so drunk that it didn't matter to him how this went. He would be careful, of course, not to hurt his brother in any way. Which meant he'd have to take a lot of preparation time. Sam didn't really mind. He anticipated making his big brother squirm in his lap; his cock gave an excited twitch even as he imagined, for mere seconds, the scene unfolding.

Dean huffed impatiently, jolting Sam back into the here and now. His libido suddenly increased tenfold, knowing what was about to take place. Sam squirted some of Dean's lube onto the fingers of his right hand and used his left to ease the thong down again, with Dean's help. He locked his eyes on his brother's and slid his slick right hand slowly down Dean's crack, reaching with his left to caress the curve of his perfect ass as Sam found his puckered hole and began to swirl his lube-coated index finger around it.

Dean's slight gasp of want, need, offered Sam a reason to plunge past the tight rings of initially unrelenting muscle until they loosened around Sam's finger, which was now buried in Dean's ass up to the first knuckle. The heat and the tightness around Sam's finger as he teased another finger in a circle around Dean's entrance were a combination that almost overwhelmed Sam, but he kept his desire in check and managed to maintain his steady pace.

That is, until he slipped the second finger in with agonizing slowness and was immediately met by Dean pushing down, hard, forcing Sam's fingers deep inside him. Sam lost some of his careful control then, pulling out then shoving back in at a faster pace than before. He gradually sped up and scissored his fingers to open Dean up further, to ready him for the next big step. The gasps and moans now escaping Dean's mouth were delicious, and when Sam paused in his endeavor long enough to tilt his head up and assess Dean's facial expression, he was unable to contain a groan of his own at the hottest sight he had ever been privileged to lay eyes on: his brother with his head tipped back slightly, mouth agape, heavy-lidded eyes so sex-blown he looked almost demonic, jaw set tight, neck muscles taut against the tremulous waves of pleasure rolling visibly over his body. 

Sam fit a third finger inside Dean with almost no difficulty. He pounded in and out of Dean's hole with an easy rhythm, and he could tell Dean was really enjoying himself. So was Sam. But when he found Dean's prostate and his brother started writhing on his lap, whimpering and babbling and - fuck, this was even better than Sam had ever pictured on those countless nights when he got himself off, thinking solely of the inhabitant of the bed beside his in whatever run-down motel room they were in.

When he realized his three fingers were slip-sliding in and out of Dean's ass without resistance, Sam decided it was time to hit the home run. He caught Dean's gaze and his brother nodded at the unspoken question. "S-Sam, please, please do it. Do it now, Sammy, I'm ready, please fuck me, ah shit Sam now, now," he drawled breathlessly. His hand reached instinctively for his cock, but Sam brushed it away gently. He wanted to be the sole factor in Dean's pleasure tonight.

As Sam removed his fingers from Dean's hole and slathered his own dick with lube, he became vaguely aware of a pounding at the bathroom door, and raised voices. Oh well, Sam thought, this bathroom is reserved. They could always go find their relief out back, behind the club. Or they could just go screw themselves; Sam was cool with either idea because he was about to fuck his big brother in this tiny, disgusting bathroom and there was nothing anyone else was going to do about it.

Once his cock was nice and slick - and Sam had to take care not to linger in his strokes because even though his dick was literally aching from being untouched so long, it was about to have the best experience it had ever known - he leaned up and kissed Dean deeply, simultaneously placing his hands on his brother's hips and positioning Dean's entrance expertly over his stiff cock. Sam lowered Dean slowly, kissing him all the while, until the head of his dick was just barely pushing past the outer ring of muscle. Dean made a strangled noise somewhere in his throat that stopped Sam in his tracks.

"Dean, are - are you okay?" he worried. He searched his brother's face in earnest and, to his surprise, found nothing but a flash of irritation before Dean simply sat down on his cock.

"Of course I'm fine, Sam, I - son of a bitch -" Sam had begun to gently thrust into Dean now. "Sam," Dean panted, "I'm not a damn fragile kid or some shit, please - faster -" Happy to oblige, Sam picked up the pace. He was rewarded almost instantly by a look of absolute euphoria dawning on his brother's face as Sam got lucky enough to find Dean's prostate right away. He pounded relentlessly against his brother's sweet spot, relishing the noises Dean was making and adding a few pleasured moans of his own to the mix. Dean was positively wild on his cock now, bouncing around and riding Sam even as the latter continued to thrust upward into him. Sam took one hand off Dean's hip and raised it to his chest, tweaking a nipple and reveling in the husky, drawn-out groan Dean uttered in response.

They continued like this for a few blissful moments, until Dean's expression changed to one of urgency and Sam felt the burn rising in intensity in his gut. He reached down with his free hand and gripped Dean's cock, jacking it in time with his thrusts. He dipped his pinky slightly into Dean's slit, which was sweating out precome, before twirling his hands around Dean's length and caressing every inch of it with fingers that alternated between feather-light touches and firm grasps. Dean's muttering was completely incoherent now, save the times when Sam caught his own name blended among the otherwise-wordless moans. Sam rested Dean's balls in his palm for a heartbeat or two, feeling their warmth seep into his hand before rolling them between his fingers and then relinquishing them in favor of returning to Dean's throbbing cock.

The pressure built steadily inside Sam, and he could tell from Dean's face that his brother was close, too. They locked eyes again, and Dean gave Sam the slightest of smiles, and suddenly Sam was rocking hard into him in a broken rhythm, spilling come inside Dean's ass and calling his name over and over again. As he rode out his aftershocks Dean's orgasm peaked. A thin white ribbon splattered both their chests as Dean spluttered and groaned and repeated Sam's name like it was the only word in his vocabulary. The pure ecstasy on Dean's face was almost enough to have Sam coming a second time.

After a few minutes of trying to calm their heavy breathing, Sam leaning against the back of the toilet with Dean's forehead pressed against his, they began to untangle their limbs. Sam carefully extracted himself from inside his brother and slumped down in exhaustion as Dean managed to clamber off of Sam's lap and wad up some toilet paper to clean them off.

He tossed a clump of tissue at Sam and went to work with his own, wiping up his chest and dick with intense concentration that told Sam his brother was suddenly feeling awkward. Glancing down at his own come-spattered chest but unable to lift a hand in fatigue to tidy himself up, he was a little miffed. Would it kill Dean to have even an ounce of romance for once? "You couldn't clean me off, too?" Sam asked instead of voicing his previous thought. Dean glared for a second and then, shockingly, that shy smile from earlier was back. He gently retrieved Sam's wad of toilet paper and set to work wiping his come off his little brother's bare chest.

Sam looked on in astonishment. "I - I didn't actually expect you to do it, Dean," he marveled aloud.

Dean looked up and narrowed his eyes at Sam. "Geez, Sam, have a little faith in me, wouldja? I'm not always a bitch, bitch."

Sam smiled widely. "Yeah, okay. Jerk."


End file.
